Relentless
by Pyro146
Summary: Natasha has been slipping up in her missions and only luck has ensured that nothing too drastic has occurred when she started making mistakes. But that luck runs out and her troubles become vast. Rated for language, violence and yes, smut. All the good stuff.
1. Chapter 1

"Do you want to tell me what _really_ happened?"

Natasha flicked her eyes up to meet Bruce's stern gaze. He was holding her x-ray out in front of him, not looking pleased in the slightest. It was just him in the lab, his assistant had taken the afternoon off for personal reasons and that was the only reason Natasha had actually come in to ask for the Doctor's help.

"I told you what happened." She said with a neutral expression and he raised his eyebrows at her, clearly not believing her story.

"Yes, you told me one of the newer recruits managed to land a lucky kick. A viable explanation, except it doesn't match up with your injury." Bruce had that professional looking face, as though he was not going to listen to any bullshit she gave him, but Natasha was not wavering from her story.

"Yeah and it hurt like hell. Is there anything you can do?" She said, keeping her eyes locked to his, if she looked away it would only show she was lying. Even though he seemed to be fully aware of her deceit.

"You have a hairline fracture that was made with a circular object." Bruce said calmly. "My guess would be a metal pole of some description. Certainly not from a kick."

"He was wearing steel capped boots." Natasha lied smoothly, knowing that it would have fooled anybody else. She shifted ever so slightly and ignored the pain that shot through her abdomen, not even Bruce picked up any discomfort from her expression.

"The x-ray is very clear Natasha." He said, "It's a rounded object. This is not the first time you have come in here with a story that doesn't connect with an injury. I haven't said anything to anybody because you asked me not to, which in itself is a sign that you are trying to pull the wool over my eyes. But this is the worst one yet and I'm starting to get worried about you."

That was the absolute last thing that she wanted to hear, the reason she had not gone to one of the official SHIELD doctors or even informed Fury about what was happening. She did not want anybody's pity and she felt she did not deserve it. She had proven herself time and time again but as soon as she started to make a couple of mistakes, she was deemed to be worrisome. She slid off the bed she had been sitting on and walked forward to take the x-ray out of Bruce's hands.

"Thank you for your help Doctor." She said calmly and quickly exited the lab, completely ignoring him as he called out her name before the door slid shut after her. She rolled the x-ray up as she walked through the corridor and kept it by her side so as not to get any suspicious glances from the agents that passed her. Just as she reached the quarters that she used while at the base, she heard a familiar voice shout her name and she turned, waiting patiently as Clint jogged towards her.

"Hey! Heard you were back." He said, greeting her with a smile, "I also heard you did brilliantly. One more crime boss thrown in the slammer! Fury should give you a medal or something, you've been on a roll lately."

"All in a days work." She said, stealing the catch phrase that he often used when someone complimented his work after a mission. He laughed and noticed what she was holding in her hand.

"What's that?" He asked with a curious tone.

"Blueprints for my next run." She said casually, feeling guilty for lying to Clint, but knowing that he would have no reason not to believe her and would assume the details were confidential and wouldn't press further.

"Jesus, you get straight back into it don't you." He chuckled, dropping a hand on her shoulder. "You'll get some rest though right? Before you go back out, seems like all you've been doing lately is heading out on the deeper missions." She liked that he wasn't openly showing his concern like Bruce had been, but he was hinting gently that she should take it easy. He knew her well and he was aware that the harder he urged her to slow down, then the faster she would try and go.

"Yeah, don't worry, there's lots of planning before I head out on this one." She said, giving the 'blueprints' a little shake. Another lie and another wave of guilt. She was making a habit of falling into a routine of deception. "I was actually hoping to get some sleep…" She hinted obviously to which he looked quite guilty himself.

"Oh right, sorry sorry, of course." He smiled and started to head off, giving her a parting wave. "I'll see you after you've had your beauty sleep. Not that you need it of course." He winked and disappeared around the corner. Natasha let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding in and quickly entered her quarters before anyone else could stroll past and engage her in conversation.

She dropped the x-ray on her bed and made her way through the tiny room into the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror with a frown. She winced as she carefully rolled up her shirt to reveal a purple bruise that was already starting to get that sickening yellow tinge around the edges. It was very clearly a circular mark and she cursed herself for not thinking of a better cover story to tell Bruce. If only he knew how correct he had been.

She drew back upon the memory of the broken pole being slammed into her ribs and almost flinched, even though she was in no actual physical danger. She had made a drastic mistake that had entirely blown her cover, but when completing the paperwork she had altered the story slightly and managed to avoid admitting how badly she had messed up. It wouldn't have been such a big deal, if it hadn't been her third mission in a row that had included her making a vital mistake that she had no excuse for.

"Get it together Romanoff." She growled at her reflection and stared hard into her own eyes. She was certain that if she had to go to Bruce one more time to ask for help, then he was going to void the whole 'patient confidentiality' thing and just tell Fury what was going on. Then she would be put through the blender, forced into psyche exams and grilled for info, taken off missions for an indefinite amount of time. She couldn't let that happen. Her work was all she had and she made a decision to stop letting herself mess up.

Luck had been her friend so far, but she had a feeling that would only last so long. When all the cards were on the table and everything had been drilled down, Natasha knew that the only thing she could rely on was herself.


	2. Uncertainty

Nightmares were not unfamiliar to Natasha, but they had become more frequent, even though she was reluctant to admit that even to herself. Often she would be plagued with general flashbacks, her mind treating her to a replay of some of the more horrific moments in her life. Sometimes when she was tired or stressed, her dreams would be filled with memories that had been altered, outcomes playing through the night that were considered the worst case scenarios. Even though part of her always knew she was dreaming, the vividness that her subconscious could create was truly remarkable.

No one knew she was suffering from nightmares, though it was probably just generally assumed that someone like her would have a lot of terrible memories to relive. At least no one had ever breached the topic with her, other than Clint and yet whatever answer she would give him seemed to make him think she was coping well. She was starting to wonder if there was something wrong, something off and was the cause of why she had been blundering around like a fool. She was a formidable asset, a valued member of SHIELD and her training had been extensive, she should absolutely not be making the mistakes that she had.

On one mission she had messed up with her accent of all things, as though it had simply slipped her mind that she was portraying a German that was supposed to have trouble speaking English. It had taken just a few words that didn't even hold much meaning themselves and the guns had been pointed in her direction with startling speed. She couldn't believe she had made it out of that one.

No one had a clue how much danger she had been in lately, except Bruce of course but even he could only speculate, he didn't actually have any idea about the particular situations. She realized that he wasn't about to just give up on the beginning of his lecture, when he showed up on her doorstep the next evening after the day that she had gone to get an x-ray from him.

She was in the kitchen when she heard the knock on the front door, her instincts suddenly sharpening and her hand automatically moving to her hip, where her side arm was still seated in its holster. She put the down the bowel of pasta and moved cautiously through the lounge, her bare feet making no noise as they glided over the thick carpet. Very few people knew where she lived and only on very rare occasions did Natasha ever actually have visitors; she wasn't exactly the type to host dinner parties every week.

Her slender fingers closed over the butt of her weapon as she stood beside the door and took a look through the peep hole. Her body relaxed when she saw it was Bruce and the prospect of possible danger was forgotten, but a new tension arose when she realized he wouldn't have come for a friendly chit chat.

Almost reluctantly, she opened the door enough to view him, but not enough to suggest he was welcome to come inside.

"You should have called first." She said with a blank expression, "So I could have told you not to bother coming round." He frowned at her initial way of turning down his visit but squared his shoulders, making it clear to her that he had come to be heard and that he wasn't going to just give up and walk away.

"May I come in?" He asked, opting to remain polite even though she was bordering on hostile.

* * *

It had taken a fair amount of courage to come to her flat and it had taken almost the whole day to talk himself into actually growing the balls to stop chickening out. She was a terrifying woman on the surface and Bruce understood exactly why the Black Widow was as feared as she was. But he had seen her in a different light on two separate occasions. He had seen what lay underneath that harsh exterior and it was something that was hard to forget.

When she had pulled the gun on him in India, she had been scared. There was no way around that, no denying it, though he had _never _had the stupidity to try and discuss that moment with her, knowing that the encounter would definitely not go well. But on the helicarrier, when the Other Guy had attacked her and she had been saved by Thor, the expression on her face had been one of _terror_. Bruce was used to people looking at him with fear, but she had been downright shocked and it was that face that haunted his nightmares.

He didn't know if she was aware of it, or if he was perhaps actually imagining it, but just before Thor had stopped the Other Guy from killing Natasha, he had hesitated. If he was remembering the situation clearly, it was the look on her face that had actually stopped Hulk's fist before it could flatten her. Only, he couldn't be one hundred percent certain that the events had gone down that way, while the Other Guy had control, Bruce felt like he was under a fog and most the time he only received flashes of snippets of what had happened. But her face… for some reason he could recall that expression _vividly_. He had a feeling that was why he felt a strange need to protect her.

He knew that the others also wanted to protect Natasha, though of course she would argue black and blue that she was not weak in the slightest and needed no such protecting. But they all felt it. Steve played the chivalry card, still not used to such strong women having a integral role in the military, even though he had told Bruce about Peggy. Bruce wondered if Steve saw a resemblance between Peggy and Natasha, that could be the main reason Steve wanted to keep her safe.

Clint had been her partner for years, they were good friends and they trusted each other, that was obviously why he tried to protect her. Bruce wasn't sure of their relationship, he was told once that they used to be together, but had decided it just wouldn't work and somehow they managed to stay friends through it all, which was highly commendable really.

Thor didn't have much to do with the team, he would visit from Asgard every now and then but he could never stay long because apparently the Bifrost ,or whatever it was called, was still being rebuilt and didn't hold much power. He mainly came to update them on the Loki situation and of course, to spend some time with Jane. But he would voice a concern or two about how dangerous Natasha's job was. That was chivalry showing again, the whole damsel in distress routine and it was clear that Natasha did not appreciate it in the slightest.

Tony cared, though he would never admit it, Bruce was smart enough to read between the lines and see past all the bullshit that Tony spewed out. The two of them had become close, bonding over science and the way that they were both basically shunned as human beings. Tony would always be labelled as the egocentric asshole and Bruce would always be the monster.

"May I come in?" Bruce repeated after she hadn't answered for a minute. She seemed to be considering it on a level that should be too deep for such a simple question. Everything she was doing lately was telling him that there was something going on with her and he was determined to get to the bottom of it.

"Does anybody know you are here?" She asked quietly and even though there had been no malice in her tone, a chill ran up his spine. That was the kind of thing the serial killers asked their victims when they knocked on their doors right?

"Uh, no." He said simply, unsure which answer would have helped his case better. At least if he was honest then she had no reason to suspect treachery from him. After another few moments of her eyes piercing into his soul, she stepped aside slightly and allowed him to enter. He didn't know how he expected her flat to look, maybe some weapons littered around, handcuffs and torture implements scattered across the lounge. But he saw none of that, none of anything really, it was all very plain and simple. Such an odd contrast, a simple home for an immensely complicated woman.

"Do you want a drink or anything?" The question surprised him and he turned to her, almost expecting her to suddenly announce she was kidding, then manhandle him back out of the door. Even though she clearly didn't want him there, she was still going to play the part of a traditional host? He was really never going to figure this woman out.

"Water would be good." He said quietly and she nodded, turning and beckoning to him with her finger as she walked across the room. "Kitchens this way."

He followed her like an obedient puppy, his head still turning as he tried to view his surroundings but with not much to see there was no point. There wasn't even any photographs or personal effects out in the open and with a slight pang of sadness Bruce realized why. She was a spy through and through, she may have been part of SHIELD, but she most likely still expected to be turned on at any point and would never leave and clues around her house that could be used to trace her if she suddenly had to disappear. He was willing to bet that weapons were hidden all through the house, along with pre-packed bags that she could simply grab if she had to make a run for it.

The kitchen was smaller than would be expected of a flat that size, not that the actual flat was very large, but of course she was the only one living there and didn't need much room. He watched her take a glass and pull a jug of ice water from the fridge, filling it almost to the brim before handing it to him.

She picked up a bowel from the bench and took a bite of the pasta inside, causing Bruce to feel bad that he had interrupted her during dinner time. Not that it was really much of a meal.

"I think you need to talk to someone." He said, knowing she would wait for him to speak and he needed to say something before it got any more awkward. She didn't react, didn't yell at him or demand he leave at once and for a split second, Bruce _swore_ he saw something in her eyes that was almost close to emotion. But it was gone too fast for him to make much note of it.

"Do you." She said rhetorically as she took another bite of her food. "I'm assuming you don't mean someone like Barton. Or Fury." Bruce took a sip of the water and refused to look away from her piercing gaze.

"No, I don't." He said, setting the glass down on the bench. "I think, I think you need to talk to a professional." Before she could say anything else he figured he may as well defend his suggestion before she shut down on his completely. "Look Natasha, I just think it would be a good idea to talk to someone who knows what they're doing, someone who can help you. I'm not trying to call you crazy, I don't think you're losing it. I'm just… worried about you." He said the last part quietly, knowing it was those words that had caused her to hurry from his lab the previous day. But she surprised him again and didn't react in any sort of hostile manner.

"I'm fine." She said calmly, finishing the pasta and putting the bowel in the sink. "Sometimes people get injured on missions. It just happens."

"So you are admitting that the injuries occurred on the missions?" Bruce said suddenly and he saw her freeze as she reached for the tap. Her shoulders slumped ever so slightly and he couldn't see her face but he dam well knew she would be frowning.

"Yes, alright fine Doctor. You were right." She said, turning the tap on and rinsing her bowel more thoroughly than was probably needed. "I received those injuries the way you thought I did. I shouldn't have lied. I'm sorry."

Bruce was stunned and glad she was turned away, considering he was having trouble rehinging his jaw that had almost dropped to the floor. As far as apologies went, he had never been on the receiving end of one from Natasha Romanoff. He didn't speak for a moment and neither did she, but he was aware that the silence was anything other awkward.

Without really considering the repercussions of his actions, he stepped forward and dropped a hand on her shoulder, feeling her flinch ever so slightly, but he ignored it. "I just don't want you to get hurt Natasha. Even the strongest of us can make fatal mistakes." Shockingly, she didn't pull her gun on him, she didn't try and break his arm off, she didn't even try to move away. She just turned to him with that all too familiar look in her eyes and Bruce sighed inwardly, he recognized the fear that she was projecting.

But very quickly, he realized that the fear was not toward him, no, she was definitely showing fear, but in reference to something else. Being this close, as close as they had ever been apart from moments when he was medically examining her, was an unusual experience for Bruce. He could see every detail of her face and her stunning eyes, he could see the vibrant colour of her hair, which had grown so much longer in the time since he had first met her. He could smell her scent, a strange mix of vanilla and something else, something that made him almost _hungry._

With a start, he realized that it wasn't him that was thinking that, it was the Other Guy, he was struggling to get through and for some inexplicable reason, Bruce thought it was Natasha's scent that was drawing him to the surface. He need to end the shockingly intimate moment that they were sharing, it didn't appear to be going in a direction that would end well with anybody.

"Look, just take it easy on the missions for awhile okay?" Bruce said almost casually as he felt an animal starting to make itself known inside his head. He gave her shoulder a light squeeze, trying to make it a reassuring gesture, as if to say something like 'Yeah, I'm here for whenever you need anything'. "I should head back to the tower, Tony gets creative if I'm not there to reign him in and who knows what screwed up invention he'll think of without me there to keep him in check." He gave her a smile and quickly moved back through her lounge, showing himself out. No doubt he would be leaving her confused and shocked, but that was better than bloodied and beaten.

He made it to the car he had borrowed from Tony and slid inside, his hands automatically clutching at his head as a deafening voice echoed throughout his mind. After a few minutes of calming himself down by sheer force of will, he placed his shaking hands on the wheel and started the car, careful to stay inside the speed limit as he made his way back to Stark tower. It terrified him how easily he had almost just lost total control, brought on by the scent of the beautiful woman that he was so desperate to protect.

"Banner what have you gotten yourself into?" He muttered under his breath, not even realizing that he had already driven through two red lights. His mind was focused elsewhere and so was the mind of the beast that resided inside.


	3. Resilience

**Warning for smut and dark themes.**_  
_

* * *

_Bruce can simply not believe it's finally happening, a quiet dream that came to him at certain times when he wished it wouldn't, but it was finally real. And it was glorious._

_He was hardly aware of the softness of the mattress under his back, or the vibrant morning sun that streamed through the windows and illuminated the entire room. All his focus was on the beautiful woman straddling him and riding him with as much ferocity as he always imagined she would. Natasha's back arched she tilted her face to the roof, moaning in delicious ecstasy, a clear sign that her body was enjoying the moment as much as his was. His hands held her hips, guiding them with forceful motions as he pumped his own hips and slammed his length inside her, deeper and deeper every time. _

_Her hands were splayed on his chest, fingernails digging in to create half moon imprints of a slight pink, not breaking the surface and yet she was still managed to gain leverage in that way. Bruce's eyes were wide as he watched her writhe and moan on top of him, her naked body glistening with sweat and her chest flushed with the pleasure that he was sending through her body. It was the most beautiful feeling imaginable, to have a moaning Natasha Romanoff encasing his length with a tight heat that almost made his eyes roll into the back of his skull._

_There was nothing that could compare to this._

"_Bruce…" She moaned and he made a grunting noise, his name had never been spoken with such a delicious sound to it. "Bruce…I need, I need…."_

_He sat up and wrapped his arms around her, hands grabbing at her ass to continue to rough thrusting, increasing his pace and gaining every reaction from her that he was seeking. _

"_What do you need." He growled, thoroughly enjoying how much he was causing her to come undone, it was an honour to see her in such a state and he in reverence. His mouth moved to one of her breasts and his lips closed over her nipple, sucking and nibbling in a way that caused her to shriek with delight. "What do you need Natasha, tell me."_

"_I need, I need… I need you not to kill me." _

_Bruce snapped his head back and felt her go limp in his arms, her head lolling to the side as a trail of blood trickled from the corner of her mouth and trailed lazily down her jaw. He stared into her eyes with horror, noting how blank and lifeless they looked, open and gazing at him without being able to actually see him._

"_N-Natasha!" he gasped, feeling how cold her body was, her lips a subtle shade of blue. With their chests pressed tightly together, he became very aware that there was no heartbeat originating within hers._

_She seemed to have shrunk so much, dwarfed by the size of his monstrous arms around her, her skin such a contrasted color to the sickening green of his._

"_Nooooo!" _

His strangled cry echoed around the lab even as he was yanked from his taunting dream, his eyes opening but taking a long time to understand that the face in front of him belonged to Tony, concern showing in the billionaires expression.

"Whoa, Banner take it easy!" Tony exclaimed as Bruce reflexitively tried to fight against the hands shaking his shoulders. "Hey, shit, look at me, just a dream! It was just a dream!"

Bruce blinked in wild confusion and looked around at the well lit lab, ceasing to try and swat Tony away. His heart was racing and he swallowed, evening his breathing in a thoroughly practiced way, ensuring no incidents were about to occur.

"Just a dream?" his gaze fell back to Tony who nodded, understanding that Bruce was in a state that required certain reassurance.

"Yeah Bruce, just a dream. Or probably a nightmare, judging by the agonizing sounds you were making before I managed to wake you up."

His body started to calm down and he let out a shaky breath as Tony removed his hands, taking a step backwards but keeping the concerned expression. "You want to tell me what that was all about?" He asked, dropping into the other chair beside Bruce's work bench.

Bruce ran a hand through his unruly hair and noted how much he was shaking. He closed his eyes and took a few more deep breaths before returning his gaze to Tony.

"Just a bad dream." He murmured, knowing that his friend wouldn't press the issue if he clearly didn't want to discuss it.

"Thought you were going to Hulk out on me." Tony said, honesty shinning in his eyes. "The grunts you were making seemed to be a clear sign that you were about to tear up my lab.

Bruce forced a shaky laugh and leaned back in the chair that he had fallen asleep in. "Yeah, I'm good now though." He said, putting an effort into trying to convince the both of them that he would be okay. Tony didn't say anything, but it was abundantly clear that he didn't believe Bruce in the slightest.

* * *

"You sure you're up for this one Romanoff?" Fury asked, raising his eyebrow at her. "You've been pushing yourself hard lately, if anyone deserves some time off, it would be you."

"I'm good sir." Natasha said calmly, giving him a curt nod. "This is one I've been waiting for. I need to be on this mission."

Fury didn't speak for a moment, giving her that studying look that she always detested. It was clear he was second guessing his decision to offer her the mission but she knew if she spoke then it would not help her case, she needed to let him make his own evaluation of her competency. He handed her the folder in his grasp and she took it while managing to hide her sigh of relief.

"This in an important one Romanoff." He said calmly. "There isn't many I would trust this run to."

"I understand sir." She said as he released his hold on the information packet. "I won't let you down."

"See that you don't." With that, he turned and exited through the main door, leaving her alone in the briefing room. She dropped into the seat closest to her and opened the file, spreading the documents across the table so she could study them. It had been a almost a year since she last encountered Michael Patrons, before that they had crossed paths a few times and unfortunately she had actually run hits with him. He was a devastating assassin, even able to make her skills and talents seem like merciful gestures.

He was ruthless and sadistic, his work gave him pleasure and he enjoyed every moment of it. The power of taking a life and seeing the light die in their eyes was something that seemed to comfort him. Natasha was only too happy to be the one that would finally bring him down.

As she viewed the images of various camera feeds, her mind was drawn back to her confusing encounter with Bruce the night before. He had left her standing in the kitchen under a state of confusion. She had come so very close, almost revealing her troubles and confiding in him of her constant nightmares. She had almost been able to ease her burden and allow herself to release the pressure of her distressed mind.

But he had left so suddenly and her tender moment had evaporated, causing her to chastise herself for showing such shocking weakness. Her latest mission was just the thing she needed to reaffirm her own strength and she almost smiled at the knowledge that such a twisted action was going to make her feel better.

Was she any different from Michael after all?

* * *

It had been almost 24 hours since Fury had cleared her plans for the mission and she had not been in contact with base since then. 24 hours in which she had easily managed to track down her target and proven her skills in reconnaissance. She'd barely had to put any effort into the trace and it was only at that 24 hour mark that she realized why her task had been so startlingly easy to complete.

He had known she was coming. He had been ready for her.

Her luck had officially run out.

"You know, I think I've actually missed you Natasha." The voice rang out through the darkened room and roused Natasha from the light doze that her mind had mercifully allowed. As she was brought back into the real world, the ache from her shoulders announced its presence again and she couldn't even believe she had managed to fall asleep. As the scent of chloroform reached her nostrils, she understood it had not been of her own accord. She coughed slightly, licking her dry, cracked lips and noting the harsh flavour of the chemical that still lingered, no doubt a rag had been placed over her mouth before she had succumbed to the forced slumber.

She blinked wearily and looked around, unable to turn her head very far and there was not much to be observed anyway, the room had no light source and she could barely see a foot in front of her. Her wrists were sore from such tight bonds and her feet were throbbing, she couldn't tell how long she had been tied up that way, her arms stretched high above her head with her legs dangling uselessly above the floor.

Footsteps approached her from behind and she felt the very tip of a sharpened blade press into her back, just to the left of her spine. She didn't move in the slightest, not even the barest hint of a flinch as heated breath touched the back of her neck and the knife travelled slowly upwards, slicing through the material of her shirt with very little effort.

She couldn't remember her jacket being removed, her mind was still hazy from the drug and she glanced down to see she still wore her pants, internally thankful for such a thing. She knew how Michael would often treat his female victims before he disposed of them. The man was a monster and she was completely at his mercy.

"Have you missed me too Natasha?" Michael whispered in her ear, his voice so very gentle and more terrifying than if he had been yelling at her.

"Oh definitely." Natasha muttered dryly, swallowing as she felt how dry and scratchy her throat was. How much chloroform had she actually inhaled?

"You were always such a good liar." Michael moved around into her line of vision, the point of the knife sliding gently around her waist to rest at her stomach, never leaving her body. "But you aren't even going to put in the effort to convince me?"

She said nothing, his games were a prize to him and she was not going to take part in them.

He smirked at the resolute expression on her face and the fire in her eyes. The knife came up and with his free hand he grasped her jaw, pressing his thumb painfully into her cheek so her mouth was forced to open.

"If you aren't even going to speak, then what use is your tongue?" He cooed, bringing the knife to her mouth even as she tried to pointlessly yank her head from his grip. The blade rested on her tongue and she refused to wince as she felt the stinging sensation and a tiny drop of blood was released. "Shall I slice it in half Natasha?"

"I'd rather you didn't." She managed to say, the words coming out muffled and altered considering she had to speak in a way that didn't cause her tongue to take further damage from the knife.

He smiled triumphantly and removed the knife, purposely letting it trail over the edge of her bottom lip and she felt a trickle of blood start to form and run down the side of her jaw.

"We both know you'll never get any information from me." She stated almost matter-of-factly. "There's nothing you can do that will give you the info you want."

His eyebrows raised ever so slightly and his smile became more malicious. "There you go, jumping to conclusions." He laughed quietly and took a step back, ensuring she was barely able to see him through the darkness and she had to squint to make out his features. "You assume that I am actually wanting intel. But you are right about not getting it from you. I'm well aware that you can stay silent through whatever I could do to you."

"So why this whole charade then." She said, trying to move her shoulders to ease the painful aching, but not having much luck and the binds on her ankles remained just as tight, not matter the subtle movements of her feet as she tried to free herself. "I won't give you info, if you release me you know I'll kill you without hesitation. Why haven't you just killed me?"

"That would be no fun." He said, taking a step forward and she realized he was holding a strip of material. For a moment she thought she was about to be drugged again, but then he moved faster than she anticipated and had wrapped the material tightly around her mouth, trying it in a knot at the back of her head. He didn't bother trying to move her hair out of the way to do so and she could fell portions of it caught up in the knot, pulling at her scalp painfully. Her lips curled over the edges of her gag and she knew that it wasn't exactly about silencing her, because if she was going to scream then it wouldn't provide much silence against that. And also, he knew she wouldn't be screaming due to anything he could do to her.

"First you want me to speak and now you gag me?" Her worlds were barely understandable, but he would have got the gist and he just laughed as she tried to move her mouth to stop the way the material pulled tightly against her cheeks. The purpose of the gag was to degrade her, to show her that her words and voice were not worth anything.

She knew what was coming next and her previous relief fizzled away as she watched him unbuckle him pants. Instantly she closed her eyes and pushed her mind away from her body. She was sitting in her lounge, flicking through the channels of the TV, bored and wondering why she even bothered when there was nothing on anyway.

A sharp back hand to her face snapped her back to reality and she saw anger in Michaels eyes for the first time. "I know your tricks Natasha, your ways to escape pain. I won't let you do it now." He grabbed her jeans and yanked them roughly down her hips, unable to take them all the way off due to the way her ankles were bound together. Her eyes closed again and she turned the volume of the TV up louder, changing over to a documentary about imploding buildings.

Another flash of pain across her face and this time she knew it was from a closed fist. She blinked as her eyes watered by pure reflex and nothing else. The blow had been harsh but definitely not enough to knock her unconscious, Michael was far too smart for that. Her eyes focused on his for just a second and she saw the absolute hunger in them, that ruthless glint of a madman about to devour his victim.

A documentary about controlled implosions was not going to cut it.

His hands grabbed her knees and forced them apart with a rough motion and she closed her eyes again just as she felt him tear away her underwear. Her body seized with the pain of him brutally slamming himself inside of her but she proudly let no noise utter from her throat. She was well aware than any sort of agonizing sound from her would only increase his drive. He needed to cause pain to get his kicks, he was a true sadist.

She linked the fingers of her hands and dug into her own palms with her fingernails, only able to create a tiny amount of pain that could draw the focus away from what he was doing to her. It wasn't enough.

She tried to pull her mind away again, running through old missions where she had been injured and drew attention to the pain she could remember from those times. A bullet wound, a kick to the face, anything that her mind could grasp.

She choked out a spluttered gasp as her she felt the knife slice into her right thigh, not deep enough to cause any muscle damage, but enough to allow a steady stream of blood to flow out down her leg.

"Stay..with… me… Natasha." Michael growled between thrusts, his voice nothing short of menacing.

Her reaction to the knife wound egged him on and the pace of his hips increased, bringing more pain to her lower body. She turned her head away and opened her eyes, desperately searching the room to find some detail to focus on. But he had been crafty from the start and he had ensured the room was in complete darkness for that reason specifically. With her vision dulled, her other senses had to become sharper.

She could hear every ragged breath he made, every lust filled grunt and moan as he degraded her while she was defenceless. She could smell the sweat accumulating on his body and the scent of sex in the air. But worse than that, she could feel everything with unbearable clarity. Every time she closed her eyes to try and pull away from her hell, he would wield the knife, slicing along her neck or arm, or leg. Never enough to cause enough pain that would take her focus from the rape.

"That… looks…painful.." He grunted, his hand touching the vibrant bruise on her abdomen. She snapped her teeth together audibly as he punched her in the gut and she _felt_ the mild fracture of her rib change to a full break. She coughed and gasped, but quickly reverted to her silence.

He needed her to scream and she would not allow that to happen. She knew her torment was only lasting so long because she was denying him in his effort to extract noises of agony from her. Her resilience was her undoing.


	4. Unbreakable

"Hey Clint, have you heard from Natasha recently?" Bruce tried to phrase the question casually, there was no real reason for him to be worried, but he still couldn't shake his growing concern.

Clint pulled his head out of the fridge, showing Bruce that he had a mouthful of cold pizza that prevented him from answering the question. He chewed slowly and swallowed, picking up another piece as he kicked the fridge door shut and stepped over to the bench, dropping his food on a plate he had grabbed just before.

"She's out on a hit." He managed to say when his mouth was finally empty, though he took another bite from the other piece almost straight away. "Dunno when she's due back."

"How long do these… hits normally take?" Bruce asked, again he tried to sound rather indifferent.

"Depends on the target." Clint said with a shrug, coughing as he started to choke on the amount of food he was trying to consume. Tony waltzed in behind him and thumped him on the back, perhaps harder than would have been necessary.

"Why the hell do I keep finding you in my kitchen Barton?" Tony asked, seeming not to actually care that much, despite his words.

"Because you always have food." Clint explained, his eyes watering a little.

"Don't you and Natasha usually go on missions together?" Bruce asked. It was one question to many and Clint's eyes narrowed as he turned toward Bruce.

"Why the interrogation Doctor?" He asked calmly, calm enough to suggest he was suddenly suspicious. Tony made a point of staying silent and that in itself was a monumental sign that something was up. Tony could never keep out of conversations, his mouth was forever leading him into trouble and Clint was glancing between Tony and Bruce with increased annoyance. "Someone tell me what is going on." He said, putting the food down. The situation became instantly serious.

"You have to tell him." Tony said without looking away from the coffee he was making.

"I wasn't even supposed to tell _you_." Bruce pointed out, shifting uncomfortably under Clint's gaze.

"Come on guys, you are starting to worry me now." The joking and sarcasm had disappeared, Bruce knew he would have to reveal the secret he had been trying his best to hide. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, even though he had already told Tony, he felt like he would be betraying Natasha by letting Clint know.

"Tash is injured." Tony said almost casually, when it became clear that Bruce was having trouble mustering the courage to spit it out.

"Wait, what do you mean injured?" Clint asked confused, "She wouldn't be allowed to go out on a hit if she was injured, she would have to declare it."

"She has been hiding her injuries." Bruce said, clearing his throat but speaking with more assurance. It was all going to have to come out eventually and Clint was going to be pissed whenever he finally heard about her deception.

"Injuries? As in plural? How?" He demanded, looking between the other two, waiting impatiently for answers. Bruce sighed, Natasha was going to skin him alive when she found out he hadn't been able to keep her secret, she was never going to trust him again.

Just as Bruce was about to explain further, a ringing sounded from Clint's pocket and he pulled his cell phone out, his face visibly relaxing as he saw the identity of the caller.

"It's Tash." He said and flipped it open, turning to walk from the kitchen. "You are in serious trouble! What's this I hear about you being injured! When you get back I'm going to-" He stopped walking as he reached the kitchen doorway and just stood there, his entire body growing shockingly rigid. Both Tony and Bruce took a step forward, obviously something was seriously wrong. The two scientists exchanged a glance but said nothing.

"Listen you fucking bastard! If you fucking lay one finger on her-" Clint's voice was full of a terrifying rage, malice dripping from every single word.

Panic flared within Bruce's chest and his eyes widened as Clint continued to rage.

"You fucking prick, I will find you and fucking end you! Do you hear me!" Without warning, Clint threw his phone across the kitchen and it smashed into pieces as it connected with the wall. Even Tony neglected to make any sort of sarcastic remark. Neither of them had seen Clint lose it in such a way, even after his mind had been toyed with by Loki, he had been calm and collected. The situation must be deadly serious to call for such a drastic reaction from the normally composed archer.

He took a deep breath and turned toward the other two, shaking as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Tash has been jumped." He said, obviously thinking that he had just explained everything to a satisfying degree.

"What do you mean jumped?" Bruce asked confused. His panic was rising as was his worry for Natasha. An ache began to form at the back of his head but he tried his hardest to push it away, needing to focus on the current situation.

"What do you think it fucking means!" Clint yelled, his fists balling. "Some fucking twisted fuck, has her in his fucking grasp!"

"While your vocabulary is shockingly impressive, I'm going to have to ask you to calm down." Tony said, holding out his hands in a defensive motion, not surprised in the slightest as Clint rounded toward him with fire in his eyes. "You have every right to be so angry Barton, but losing your head will not help get her back."

Even as Tony spoke, Bruce was having trouble keeping a handle on his own sanity. A gruff voice was causing havoc with his mind and it was getting harder and harder to drown it out.

Ironically the only logical one left in the room, Tony was for once, the voice of reason. "We need to figure out who has her, where she is and how much danger she is in." The billionaire said and lifted his head toward the ceiling. "JARVIS, can you trace the call that Clint just received to his cell phone?"

"I'm afraid the duration was not long enough to provide an accurate trace." The computer informed the group. Tony snapped his fingers and pointed toward the kitchen door.

"Gentleman, if you please, my lab awaits." He said calmly. Clint stalked from the room, too enraged to notice the way Bruce was turning a slight shade of green. Tony was fully aware and he was in front of Bruce in a flash, his hands gripping his shoulders.

"Hey, look at me sunshine." He said with a commanding tone. Bruce tried to focus on Tony, but the roaring in his head was unbearable.

"Tony- Natasha- she- need-" Bruce shook his head, unable to form structured sentences, his voice was gruff and far deeper than normal.

"Not ganna lie Bruce, it seems like she's in the shit." Tony said, somehow still remaining completely calm, even as Bruce's eyes started to switch their coloring to green. "But right now she doesn't need Hulk, she needs Bruce. She needs that genius scientist to help track her down."

That seemed to stop the changing, logic managing to pierce the thick fog that was swirling around Bruce's mind and he gulped in air, desperately trying to override the anger that was shifting inside him. After a tense moment, he nodded at Tony, still shaking but obviously having a hold on the advancement of the Other Guy.

"I need her to be okay Tony." Bruce said quietly and Tony nodded, giving him an understanding look as he led him from the kitchen.

"I know." Tony said with a roll of his eyes, "You talk in your sleep. It's really hard to concentrate on the propulsion systems of my suit when you're across the other side of the lab, _moaning_ her name."

Bruce paled dramatically but Tony smirked a little, the whitened shade was better than the green one that had been there only moments ago.

* * *

Natasha was awoken with a vicious kick to her abdomen and the very first thing she noticed was the overpowering scent of chloroform, yet again. She had no concept of time, with the amount of occasions when the rag had been pressed over her mouth until she lost consciousness, she had no way to accurate track how long she had been there. It was still as dark as ever, except there was a small light source very close to her, illuminating Michael's grinning face.

As her eyes managed to focus again, she realized that he was holding a small device and it took just another short moment for her to understand it was her phone.

_Her phone_.

That, was a embarrassingly rookie mistake. From the look on his face, her expression had changed to horror at the concept of how she had managed to fuck up beyond belief. Not even the stupidest assassin would ever take their personal cell on a mission, for the very reason of getting caught. The numbers were not listed under names, if he called anybody, he would have no idea who he was talking to, but that was hardly the point.

She felt a wave of shame before another kick to her ribs caused her cough and spit blood. She had been lying on the ground ever since he had finished using her body for about the third time, though she had no way of knowing if he had used it other times, while she was unconscious. Her entire body ached with unrelenting agony, but the most drastic reaction he had gained from her was a sickening moment where she had almost vomited.

Though her body had been desperate to expel it, powerful nausea brought on by the chloroform, she had managed to keep it down. Logic dictated that he would probably shove her face in it, she could not allow her pride and dignity to be degraded even further.

"I talked to your boyfriend, he seems concerned." His voice sounded far off and Natasha had to fight to stay awake, a process which was becoming more and more difficult.

"Oh really?" She murmured, her mouth was so dry and painful, her tongue felt like sandpaper. "How's he doing." She had no idea who he was even talking about, most of the contacts in her phone were male and it could have been anyone.

"He seemed to be pretty anxious to get you back." Michael chuckled darkly, the sound echoing around the room. "The amount of swearing was almost entertaining."

_Probably would have been Clint._

"Yeah… He does that." She coughed. "He's very caring."

"Perhaps I'll pay him a visit after I'm finished with you." Michael sneered but Natasha just laughed, her body shaking painfully with the effort. Somehow she managed to roll onto her back, he didn't make a grab for her or anything, well aware that she was tied too securely to actually get away.

"Really?" She chuckled, the noise sounded disgusting with the amount of blood in her throat. She had to swallow a good portion of it to keep talking. "That's what you're going with? '_Perhaps I'll pay him a visit'._ Do you… have any idea who you are talking to?" Her laughter was agonizing, but the way she was sneering at him brought up an anger from her captor that made the pain worth it.

Until that anger led him to kick her in the gut again. More blood was coughed up and when she tried to suck in a breath, a sharp pain shot across her chest.

"I have to give you credit Natasha." Michael said, kneeling beside her face, the sudden rage subsiding. "I thought it would be easier than this to break you."

"A lot of people think that… you should know better."

"Yes and I bet most people have a lot of fun trying to break you." He spoke sweetly, his voice sounded distant. Natasha blinked and forced herself to remain conscious by sheer force of will.

"I have even more fun... breaking them-" She had to cut off, her body seizing as she coughed again. She didn't bother to spit out the blood, just turned her head to the side and let it dribble from her mouth. It may have been undignified, but she was getting to that point where it was becoming hard to care. "They'll come for you." She murmured, her eyes meeting his, though she had to squint to see him.

"Let's play a game." Michael said suddenly and scrolled through her phone, adorning a thoughtful expression. "I'm going to call a random number and you get to say hello."

She didn't understand what game he had started to play, but her mind had lost its sharpness anyway, for all she knew it could have been normal procedure under torture. He held the phone up to her ear and she heard the ringing tone for a moment before a hesitant voice answered.

"…Natasha?"

"Bruce!" Natasha chuckled, very aware that she would have sounded as though inebriated. She would place that down to the amount of chloroform in her system, not to mention the chemicals of euphoria that her mind was releasing to try and ease the pain in her body.

"Natasha where are you! Are you okay? Tell us where you are! Get off me! Get off!"

She blinked in confusion then realized that whoever was with Bruce was trying to take the phone from him. She could hear Clint swearing and Tony yelling in the background.

"Guys…" She moaned, a wave of dizziness coming over her. "Can you not argue while-" Michael stomped his foot down on her chest and all the air in her lungs was forced out.

He pulled the phone away as she groaned and rolled onto her side, curling into a ball as much as she could.

"Who am I speaking with?" Michael said calmly into the phone. "It is a very simple question, either you answer it, or I will cause Natasha more pain."

Evidently he was no given an answer, as his foot connected with her side and she cringed, but remained silent.

"The problem with this exchange is that she will make no noise if I kick her, so you cannot be sure if I am making good on my threats." Michael was definitely enjoying his new game, he seemed to be filled with glee as he picked up the knife from beside him, stained with her blood from the time that she had been with him.

He held the phone back to her ear and she was shocked at the vulgar swearing that was coming through, recognizing Bruce's voice instantly. Never had she heard his vocabulary sound so colourful.

"Bruce? It's me." She muttered weakly and abruptly the obscenities stopped. "Look, I don't think I'm getting out of this one so-"

"Oops time to go." Michael took the phone back and ended the call, checking his watch as he did so. Clearly he had planned to stay just under the mark of when the call could have been traced to a specific area.

"Who is this Bruce fellow?" He asked, almost sounding curious.

"Bruce Banner." She coughed and grinned up at him, unaware of the blood that covered her teeth and lips, still trickling down the side of his face. There was no recognition in the assassin's eyes, he had never heard of the scientist who housed the legendary Hulk.

"Dumbass." She chuckled, absolutely no humour was detectable in the sound.

She was not surprised when pain exploded across the side of her head and she saw a serious of twinkling lights dancing across her vision. She had been knocked out enough times recently to understand her consciousness was slipping away. But even as she felt the darkness take her back into its familiar embrace, she let herself chuckle again, knowing how furious it would make Michael.

She didn't feel the extra blow to her head, unaware that he used her very own cell phone to administer it, she had already faded to a point where the pain would no longer be a factor. Until the time when she would awake again.


	5. Realization

**Okay first off, I want to apologize sincerely for the lack of acceptable rating and warning. I'm still new to this whole fanfic business (that's no excuse, I know) and I really am sorry, I promise that warnings **_**will**_** be much clearer in the future. Thank you bringing that to my attention.**

**And… Warning for direct mention to rape, description of graphic injuries.**

* * *

Tony walked aimlessly around his lab, or at least what was left of it. Every now and then he would stoop down and pick up a device, realizing almost instantly that it had been rendered completely useless. He sighed audibly as JARVIS unnecessarily reminded him of the level of the carnage.

"Sir, I'm afraid it will have to be entirely rebuilt. Almost all of the lab was demolished during the incident." Tony resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the blindingly obvious point made by his AI.

"Yes thank you for that observation." He muttered, idly kicking at one of the buckled metal benches.

"Tony, I am so sorry." The engineer turned to see Bruce approaching from the doorway, stepping cautiously over the mess of shattered glass and broken metal framing. He looked stunningly apologetic and his face was contorted with sadness. Tony had every right to be livid with rage, but for some reason he just couldn't bring himself to be angry.

"It's alright Bruce. Nobody was hurt and that is the main thing." He knew that Bruce would already be feeling guilty enough, he didn't need an unnecessary lecture from Tony and Fury was probably going to be giving him a colourful one anyway.

"But everything is destroyed…" Bruce glanced around at the damage, visibly cringing at the chaos that he had caused single handedly.

"Things Doc. Just material things. Everything can be fixed, everything can be remade." Despite everything, Tony allowed a tiny smirk to cross his lips. "The look on Barton's face almost made it all worth it."

"He's pretty pissed huh?" Bruce asked quietly, taking a few more steps into the lab.

"Yuh huh." Tony continued to smirk for a moment but it slid off his face and he became more serious. "Can't really blame him though, the moment you Hulked out, it was abundantly clear that you have some serious feelings for Tash."

"I don't-" Bruce started to say, but Tony just raised his eyebrows and Bruce sighed dramatically. "Maybe. Just a little. Okay fine I do. That creep on the phone… I just… All I could think about was finding him and slitting his throat. For once the Other Guy and I managed to agree on something and before I knew it, he was trying to come out. He wants her back as much as I do. Maybe even more."

"Well that's… admirable." Tony said with an understanding nod. "I mean, we all want to get her back, Tasha is part of our team and let's face it, without her in the mix, we all just seem a little gay." He hadn't expected it, but the feeble joke actually caused Bruce to chuckle weakly.

"You have a point." He muttered, a hint of a smile forming. "She's certainly a beautiful woman."

"Oh anybody in their right mind can see that." Tony grinned wildly but the seriousness returned almost instantly. "Listen Bruce, Natasha is one tough cookie. She's been through an absolute fuckload of shit and she'll be able to handle just a little bit more. She'll be okay."

Bruce looked as though he didn't believe him, but managed a nod. "Yeah."

A ringing sounded from somewhere in the rubble and both men launched forward to try and locate the source.

"Figures." Tony sighed as he pulled out Bruce's cell phone from under a pile of metal and glass, "You trash my lab and break _everything_ apart from _your_ cell." The screen was cracked but he could still see Natasha's name across the centre. "Shit! JARVIS run a trace NOW!"

He pressed the button to answer the call even while trying to swat away Bruce. "Hello? Tash? Hello?" There was nothing but silence on the other end for a few seconds before a male spoke up.

"I've had my fun, you can have what's left of her."

Tony expected the call to be ended as he felt a chill run down his spine but the silence remained, void of a dial tone that would have suggested the caller hung up. He glanced at Bruce, confusion showing in both their expressions. After almost a minute JARVIS was the one to break the quiet tone of the lab.

"The trace has been completed sir. I cannot display the location on any of the screens other than the cell phone that you are holding, if you end the call I can show you the address."

Tony complied and swore when he saw the information JARVIS had relayed to Bruce's cell.

"What's going on?" Bruce demanded, but Tony was already running past him and ordering JARVIS to open the doors of the alcoves that his suits were stored in. Thankfully they had remained undamaged and it was nothing short of a miracle.

"Get Clint right now!" Tony ordered as he stepped into place so his suit could be built around him. "Do not argue with me Bruce! NOW!" It wasn't often that Tony tried to order Bruce around and as desperate as he was for answers, it was clear the situation was at a point where demanding them would be fruitless. He sprinted back up the stairs in search of Clint, managing to convince him that he needed to get down to Tony's lab straight away.

The two of them raced back down, urgency fuelling their footsteps and before any words could even be exchanged, Tony had grabbed Clint by his shoulders and flown through the side of the building, which already bore a gaping hole from when Bruce had lost control. Speechless and stumped, Bruce just stared in confusion for a moment before stepping forward and picking up his phone which Tony had dropped. He wasn't much of a swearer, but when he saw that the location of the call had been traced to Natasha's flat, he let loose a string of words that would have made Tony proud.

* * *

They landed unsteadily and Clint stumbled forward with a complete lack of dignity, nausea rolling through him. Tony had briefly explained the situation as they flew, ignoring Clint's claims that he was going to hurl. Even with the dizziness pulsing through him, Clint was already trying to run up the path to Natasha's flat, his movements haphazard for just a moment before he got the hang of walking again. The front door had clearly been smashed in, it hung on just one hinge, sending a foreboding feeling through both the men as they rushed forward.

Clint was first through the doorway but he stopped dead when he saw the body bag that had been dumped in the centre of the lounge. It had been thrown down with force, judging by the way that the small coffee table lay splintered and broken underneath it. He approached with shaky steps and sank to his knees, fully aware that there was no movement coming from within the bag. Grief washed over him in a powerful wave and he dropped his head in his hands as his shoulder slumped.

"We're too late…" He choked out, his expression contorted with pain.

"No." Tony's voice rung out clearly as he slid the face plate back and moved toward the bag, grasping the thick material with both hands. "JARVIS picked up a scan of her heart beat, she's unconscious, but she's alive."

Hope tore through Clint's heart as Tony tore open the black casing around Natasha, but that feeling of relief suddenly died the moment he saw her. Neither of the men made any sound as they saw her, the fact of her being entirely naked was completely overshadowed by the colourful range of injuries that covered her body. She had been beaten, over and over, that much as blindingly obvious by the bruising across her body and the amount of blood that was smeared from multiple sources.

Clint could easily pick up the scent of Chloroform and something more sinister… burnt flesh. He could see no wounds that would suggest such a thing and this prompted him to shakily reach forward and turn her slightly, revealing a mess of branded marks across her back.

"She needs a hospital." Tony said with a dead tone, after a few seconds of staring in complete shock.

"Base." Clint managed to choke out as he moved her onto her back again, checking her pulse and finding it to be fearfully weak. "Get her to base." He didn't think his legs would obey his command but he was able to launch to his feet and run into her room, crashing into about three walls in the process. He returned to the lounge with a blanket he had pulled from the end of her bed and with Tony's help, he managed to ease her from the body bag and wrap the soft material around her.

"I'll send someone to pick you up-" Tony started to say as he pulled Natasha gently into his arms, but a glare from Clint caused the words to die in his throat.

"Don't you dare worry about me!" Clint snapped, giving him a vicious push toward the door. "Get her to the fucking base!" Tony needed no more encouragement, he bent his knees and flew out the open door without another word, clutching an unconscious Natasha tightly to his chest.

Clint sank back down to his knees and clenched his fists as his shoulders shook with rage. It took him almost a minute to calm himself down, sucking in deep breaths to try and ease the building anger inside him. He glanced up with eyes that could see nothing but Natasha's battered body lying in front of him. Something strange caught his attention and he focused back onto reality as his vision was centred on the wall of behind her couch. Bold letters were roughly scrawled across the wallpaper and the words made Clint's blood run cold.

"_Not a screamer_."

* * *

Tony burst through the roof of the medical facility at the main base, blatantly ignoring the screams of shock as debris rained down. He had been careful to chose a spot that would result in a complete lack of injuries and he had absolutely no time to waltz in through the main door.

"A Doctor, Now!" He yelled to anyone that would listen and he was almost instantly swamped by medical professionals as they understood his reason for dropping in so dramatically. He allowed Natasha to be removed from his arms and placed on a gurney, the blanket torn away from her so her injuries could be observed. He walked with them as they hurriedly moved her to a more stable location and glared at one of the nurses as she tried to stop him from following them into a room.

"No, you can't come in." She said sternly and he was about to protest when he noticed that the group was dwindling to a more acceptable number of attendees and it seemed to be the males that were all leaving. He understood that she was unclothed but they were all professionals and he wasn't about to just leave her alone. He opened his mouth to argue when he heard someone yelling with annoyance from inside the room.

"The rape-kit can wait, her knife wounds need to be attended to first!"

Tony eyes widened and he stopped trying to move into the room, the nurse took that as a sign of his compliance and swiftly stepped back inside, shutting the door with pointed force. Tony stumbled backwards and sank into one of the chairs, not even sure if he had been aware of its presence. The metal groaned under him but held its shape for the most part as he removed his helmet and set it down on the floor next to him, running a hand through his hair.

"Oh… Tash…" He muttered with genuine emotion sounding in his voice for the first time in a long while.


	6. Recovery

The moment Bruce saw Natasha on the hospital bed, he almost lost it. This was not how the Black Widow was supposed to look, it was not a way he had ever expected to see Natasha. She was not a victim, she was a fighter and he had seen her injured before, but never so broken. Bruises covered the skin that was visible, most of her body was under a sheet that had been loosely draped over her, for modesty reasons no doubt. The other nurses had not wanted Bruce to come in the room and they had protested until her condition had completely stabilized. He almost wished he had stayed outside.

No one else had been let in, not even Clint who was absolutely fuming about not being allowed to see his partner but Bruce had reached a point where he was not going to take no for an answer. Yet after much persuasion to be let in, he had simply stood by the door for a few minutes and listened to the beeping of the heart monitor that was registering her feeble rhythm. She had been through a lot in a short amount of time, Natasha was tough, but how could anybody be _this_ tough?

He wasn't really aware of when he crossed the room, he was just suddenly at her side, ignoring the nurses as they moved around him and tried to continue patching her up. It sickened him to see the cuts and bruises, the tube down her throat, the IV in her arm, the oxygen that needed to be pumped into her lung to assist with her breathing. She was one of the strongest people he knew, it was unnatural to see her in such a weakened state.

He dropped into a chair that one of the nurses pushed over and carefully took her hand in his, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles but avoiding the purple fingers, which looked as though they had been stood on. Part of him wanted to get angry about the way she looked so defeated and the other part of him just wanted to be sad for her.

He nearly had a heart attack himself when the steady beeping of the monitor suddenly cut out and he was forced out of the way as the nurses panicked. He couldn't help but release his hold on her hand as the defibrillator was wheeled forward and backed away a little to let the nurses do their job.

The first electrical current did nothing to bring her back, only increasing the already brutal pace of Bruce's heart as he clutched at his chest, trying to keep his focus on Natasha. If he gave in to the animal, everyone in the room would die. Including Natasha.

"Call it." One of the nurses said after a few tries of receiving nothing but a bland monotonous tone. Bruce's head snapped toward her and he scowled, eyes flickering between brown and green.

"Don't you dare!" He snapped. None of the others were used to Bruce being anything other than polite and quiet, it was a shock to see him so angry, knowing what would come next.

"Dr. Banner," The nurse said hesitantly, her voice shaking slightly, "I'm afraid she's d-"

"No she isn't!" Bruce half yelled, refusing to believe it. He took a step forward and glared with pure malice, his skin taking on the tiniest hint of green. "_Again._"

The word was not spoken by Bruce, though it did in fact come from his lips and the fear on the faces of those in the room was more than obvious. It was because of her blatant terror, that the nurse complied and placed the paddles to Natasha's chest once again.

"Clear." She squeaked with a shaky tone. Natasha's body seized and arched off the bed as Bruce held his breath, his eyes now trained on the heart monitor. The slightest fluctuation in the tone was enough to send the nurses running back to action stations and Natasha was quickly zapped again, garnering a large beep from her heart.

He was back at her side the moment her heart was steady again, taking her hand in a grip that was most likely too tight and possibly uncomfortable, but with the amount of things they were pumping into her, he doubted she would even feel it.

He had been trying to deny it for a long time, but it seemed that he needed to face the truth and accept that he cared for Natasha more than he thought was safe. It would only end in disaster, he was well aware of that, for who could ever care about a monster like him? But this doubt didn't change the fact that he was going to find her tormentor and rip him limb from limb, smiling as he did so.

* * *

"Natasha…"

Everything was a swirl of disorientation, there was no pain, no emotion and nothing at all to be concerned about. It was dark and empty, but she knew there was nothing to fear about the void. She had been through so much and had so much pain thrust upon her in her life. It was all going away, she was aware of a numbness spreading over her, a release of the agony she had been holding in for so long.

"Natasha…."

The pain was gone entirely, the numbness was complete and she was finally free.

"NATASHA!"

The pain returned with a vicious vengeance and slammed into her chest, spreading like fire through her limbs and reaching right to the tips of her fingers. There was a short pause when the burning retracted but it only lasted a second before returning with full force and filling her with agony again. She was no longer numb, the intense pain was a sure sign of that and she was aware of her body moving, seizing uncontrollably with a pulsing electrical current.

"Natasha can you hear me?"

"Natasha?"

"Squeeze my hand if you can hear me!"

"Natasha, open your eyes if you can!"

So many voices, so many faces swimming above her, wide eyes and surgical masks among shockingly bright lights that caused her to blink rapidly in confusion. She tried to speak, but something was wrong and she was having trouble swallowing, it took her a moment to understand there was a thick tube in her throat.

Before she could even figure out how to ask for it to be removed, she felt it sliding up and forced herself to remain entirely still until it was out of her mouth. She coughed by reflex and grimaced, the small fit was enough to remind her of the pain and tension rolling through her body. She swallowed a few times to try and ease the strain on her throat, letting out a little groan at the effort she had to use.

"Natasha, can you hear me?" The voice was so different from the rest, sounding far less professional and filled with obvious concern that was trying to be hidden from her. She turned her head slowly, aware that she may have appeared lazy in her movements but with the complete lack of energy in her body, it couldn't be helped.

Her eyes took a moment to focus on the figure sitting next to her, perched in a chair that could absolutely not have been pushed any closer to her bed. There was a hint of purple shading under his eyes that suggested a recent lack of sleep and lines of worry were etched into his forehead.

"Bruce…?" Natasha tried her hardest to form the word clearly, but it came out as a strained whisper that was barely audible.

A pang of sadness flashed in his eyes and he dropped his gaze to his hand, which she suddenly realized was gripping hers gently. A wave of nausea rolled through her and she closed her eyes for a few moments, taking a shuddering breath to try and combat the feeling of vomiting. She was sure her body just didn't have the energy to fulfil the motion, not to mention her stomach must have been entirely empty.

"Everything is going to be okay Natasha." The softness of Bruce's voice prompted her to open her eyes and lock them into his again. There was something in them that she was having trouble placing while in her weakened state, a resolution that suggested he was making a promise to her. With his free hand he reached up and gently brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. She tried not to think about how filthy she must have looked, no doubt her hair was matted and covered with blood.

"You're safe now." He said quietly, almost too quiet to be heard.

"Safe?" She croaked out, her voice breaking with the strain of even uttering such a simple word. She winced at the raspy movement of her throat and was unaware of a nurse injecting something into the IV in her arm. She begun to feel the effects a moment later and a calm dizziness filled her mind, encouraging her to close her eyes though she was desperate to stay awake.

"Yes. Safe." Bruce whispered, his voice sounding muffled and far off. She wasn't sure if it was her imagination or not, but she thought she could feel gentle fingers caressing her cheek as she was lulled into the embrace of the darkness once more.

* * *

The next time she awoke she had a lot more of her wits about her and the pain was dulled enough for her to understand she was still being pumped with drugs. A groan left her throat before she had even opened her eyes and she reflexitively clutched her hand to take comfort in the one that had been holding it. Her fingers closed around thin air and she flicked her eyes open in confusion, looking to the side and noting the chair was empty. Maybe it had all been a morphine induced dream.

"I would say 'welcome back Sleeping Beauty', but it hardly applies."

She turned her head to the other side of her bed and was a little surprised to see Tony sitting on a chair with his arms folded, raising his eyebrows at her. "You look…. Terrible."

"I _feel _terrible." She murmured, relieved to find her throat was far less painful than before.

"You had us really worried Tash." Tony said, adorning a serious expression that he rarely used and never with her.

"Oh sorry." She muttered with enough sarcasm to make him smirk. "Should have been more concerned about _you guys. _Next time this happens I'll be sure to think more about how it will affect _you_."

"I told them you would be fine in no time." Tony said with a shrug and Natasha noticed for the first time that he seemed weary and strained, even though he was definitely trying to portray his usual composure, there was something underneath the façade that was plaguing him.

"I see you've been worrying about me." Natasha said quietly and with a lazy flick of her hand, she indicated his nails, pointing out the way they had been chewed along the tips. She expected him to get defensive, but instead he just smiled brightly.

"Oh you think this is bad?" He chuckled quietly, clasping his hands together on his knees. "I may be ruining my manicure, but you have Mr. Green coming out." He gave her a wink, evidently pleased by her confused expression as she tried to understand what he was telling her.

"Bruce Hulked?" She suddenly tried to sit up, her hands scrabbling at the side of the bed to move her into a sitting position and her heart monitor filled the room with wild beeping. "Jesus! Is he okay? Where is he Stark! Did he get hurt?"

Tony rolled his eyes and put a hand on her shoulder to keep her still, normally she would have been able to break that hand with a flick of her wrist, but her movements were slow and sluggish due to the anaesthesia that was preventing the pain from surfacing.

"He's fine." Tony assured her as she finally stopped struggling against him, admitting defeat. "He's barely left your side though, the whole time you've been in here. I had to forcibly remove him about an hour ago, he needed sleep and there was apparently no one else he would have trusted to stay by you. Not even Clint."

"How long have I been here?" Natasha asked, not processing most of what Tony had just explained as she looked around the medical lab and down at her body, noting the mess of wires and the IV in her arm.

"Almost three days." Tony said calmly, observing the his nails with a sigh. "Apparently you flat lined and they needed to put you into a medically induced coma. Only the special treatment for our little assassin."

"How did I even…" Natasha winced as she tried to remember how she had gotten to her current location and was hit with another wave of nausea.

"Clint and I found you at your house." Tony spoke quietly, allowing her to read between the lines and understand that she had been in a terrible state.

"Thank you." She said sincerely and the trademarked smirk returned to his face.

"Oh? The Black Widow can actually show gratitude? I don't think I've even heard you say that before."

"You're such a dick." She muttered and rolled her eyes, only earning a laugh from him. The laugh died in his throat almost instantly and she stared at him confused, completely unaware of why he had so suddenly changed his mood. The look in his eyes changed to one of sympathy and pity, not something to be unexpected considering her state but it came so abruptly that she didn't quite understand.

"Stark?" She tilted her head a little, becoming even more confused as he dropped his gaze to his hands and slumped his shoulders. She had never seen him like that, so openly burdened and after a moment of silence she finally understood why. He knew.

"Does anyone else know?" She asked with a lifeless tone, her expression becoming as neutral as she could make it. He shook his head and lifted his eyes to meet hers, showing the truth. "Good. Don't you dare tell anyone."

He opened his mouth to argue but she shot him a fierce look that was terrifying even while she was so bruised and beaten. "I mean it Stark. I will not have you running around and telling the world how weak I am."

"No one will see it like that Tash!" He said with a pleading tone, sitting forward a little. "We only want to help."

"I don't need your help." She said coldly, rolling over onto her side in a way that told him she didn't want to talk to him. It was a painful motion and she felt a strange sensation down her back that was new to her and confusing, the skin feeling as though it was stretching unhealthily. "Can you leave? I would like to get some sleep."

It was a lie and not a very good one, but after a few seconds Tony stood and walked across the room, pausing at the door as though he wanted to say something. He thought better of it and exited the room, leaving her alone with incessant beating of the heart monitor and the images and flashbacks that were flooding her mind.


	7. Possession

A loud knock on the door prompted Natasha to awaken from her light doze, glancing around for just a moment before understanding where she was and what was happening. She winced as she pulled her body into a more dignified position, resting her back against the wall and stretching her legs out. Everything was still aching and sore, but she was definitely on the mend and nearly every medical professional had remarked on how well she had been healing.

"Yeah." She called out toward the door and managed a smile when she saw Clint walk in with his hands behind his back. "What are you hiding?" She asked suspiciously as he stepped into the room and purposely kept his back toward the door.

"I brought you a surprise." He said with a wink and she rolled her eyes, shifting a little higher in the bed.

"Hand it over Barton." She said with a tone that warned him she was not amused by the game he was trying to instigate. "Before I come over there and take it from you. Probably getting injured in the process. Do you want that on your conscious?"

"Always with the guilt Tash." He joked with a chuckle and stepped forward, pulling a paper bag from behind him and dropping it on her lap. The smell of processed meat and cheese hit Natasha as though it was a solid force and she groaned with happiness, her eyes shining in gratitude.

She tore open the bag and pulled out a cheeseburger that had so much grease it was basically leaking through the wrapper. "Oh wow, I owe you for this Clint." She moaned with delight as she took a bite of the burger and took her time to chew the unhealthy meat, savouring the flavours on her tongue for as long as possible.

"I heard you were complaining about the food." Clint said, perching on the side of her bed and taking a fry from the bag, munching on it with a smile.

Natasha leaned to the side and picked up a cup of chocolate yogurt that had been opened but not eaten at all. "Do you see this? This is what they give me until my stomach can handle anything more solid. Yogurt and pudding. With no taste. Not even allowed coffee."

"Oh poor Tash." Clint waved his arms dramatically, ignoring the scowl on her face. "Oh my food is crap, I'm so hard done by." He ducked as she tossed the yogurt at him and it splattered across the far wall. They both laughed, though she winced as the motion sent a wave of pain across her chest. She tried to pass it off but Clint narrowed his eyes, not able to be fooled so easily.

"You still having trouble breathing?" He asked quietly, moving a little closer with an expression of concern.

"Nothing dramatic." Natasha said with a strained voice, her hand across her chest as she waited for the pain to abate. "Just when I try to do a forward flip or a somersault." The comment earned a smile from Clint, which was her intention. She had never been a fan of people worrying over her and she hated it when Clint was concerned because she knew he cared about her a lot. "I'm fine, honestly. Or I will be."

"Of course you will be." Clint nudged her shoulder playfully and stole a bite from the burger in her hand. "You've always been the tough one around here."

"Hey!" Natasha exclaimed and pulled her food away, clutching it possessively. "You can't just bring me some decent food and then eat it!" She give him a pointed kick from under the blanket but he just continued to grin at her, undeterred. The door opened and by pure reflex, Natasha shoved what was left of the burger in her mouth, well aware that the nurses would try and stop her from having anything with so much fat and grease in it. Bruce walked in looking tired and strained, but still managing to smile at her. Until he noticed the bag and wrapper in her hand.

He turned toward Clint who looked quite bashful and slid off the bed, giving Natasha a final wave before quickly ducking out the door and leaving her alone to face the consequences.

"Bastard!" Natasha called after him with a mouth full of meat, having to thoroughly chew and swallow before she could talk to Bruce who didn't look very pleased with her. "It was Clint's fault." Natasha said defensively, waiting for the lecture from the man who had pretty much appointed himself as her personal doctor.

Bruce pulled up the chair beside her bed and stared at her with a serious expression. She felt a wave of guilt wash through her but that didn't stop her slowly reaching into the bag and pulling out a couple of fries.

"How are you doing Natasha?" Bruce asked quietly, leaning forward a little as though he was eagerly awaiting her answer. She popped the fries in her mouth and quickly munched on them before giving a casual shrug.

"Good." She said, it wasn't a full lie, she was at least feeling better but she was well aware that she had a very long road ahead of her.

"We still haven't found him." Natasha sat up a little at Bruce's comment, setting the bag down beside her and becoming just as serious as him. She noticed the slight anger in Bruce's eyes, even though his body posture was suggesting he was calm.

"I know." She looked down at her hands, suddenly feeling uncomfortable about the whole situation. She cleared her throat and kept her gaze on her fingers. They were shaded a range of colors, the bruising was fading and wouldn't take very long to abate completely, but the tones and shades were going to be vibrant for awhile. At least they only ached slightly, there was no real pain in comparison to other areas of her body. "You won't find him. Not if he doesn't want you to."

Her eyes flicked up to meet his and she could see genuine sadness in them. He opened his mouth to speak but shut it almost instantly, his mind was clearly racing. Natasha said nothing, she figured he was trying to work up the courage to say something so she simply waited patiently for him to speak.

To her utter shock, he leaned forward and cupped her cheeks with both hands. Before she had any chance to react he was pushing his lips against hers and kissing her with a fierce passion. For once, she allowed herself to embrace the moment without thinking about it. There was no planning, no strategic manoeuvring, she simply reached up with aching arms and clutched at the back of his neck, returning the kiss with as much heat.

She felt the hesitation change to desperation as both of their breathing increased dramatically and they drank each other in, revelling in the power of the other's lips. Bruce's tongue swiped at her lower lip, begging for entrance and she was only too happy to comply, her own tongue darting out to meet his. She felt him sigh as he was allowed into her mouth, his arms wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her closer so she was flush against his chest, aware of how loudly his heart was racing.

A growl sounded from low in his throat and he suddenly pulled away from the kiss, tightening his arms around her until it was bordering on painful. His mouth dropped to her neck and he sucked along her skin, his fingertips pressing into her back. There was another growl that sounded almost possessive and Natasha tried to move away from the death grip in which he was holding her.

"Bruce!" She gasped, the air being forced from her lungs, "You're hurting me-" Before she could finish speaking, his lips had returned to hers with unbearable force and his hands were tangling in her hair in an effort to keep her in the kiss. She pushed against his chest, struggling to release herself without hurting him but he was so much stronger than her.

Without warning he suddenly let go and fell backwards into the chair, doubling over with his hands clutching at his own head. He let out a groan of exasperation, his body shaking.

"I'm sorry- I can't- I-" He was strained as he spoke, his voice gruff and slightly deeper than normal. Natasha swallowed and reached out a tentative hand, gently laying it on his shoulder. His head snapped up and she saw terror in his eyes, changing to anger and then to sadness. She had never seen such a range of emotions and it left her speechless. Suddenly he lunged forward and one hand wrapped around her neck, squeezing tightly as his eyes flicked to a green shade.

"_Mine_."

The single word was a furious growl, rage crossing Bruce's expression as his skin began to change to an emerald sheen.

"Bruce?" Natasha gasped, clutching at the strong hand around her neck.

"_No._"

Natasha spun around and kicked him hard in the chest, forcing him to release his hold and she threw herself backwards over the other side of the bed. She landed painfully and shimmied into the corner, coughing and rubbing her throat. Pain flared across her chest and she let out a groan, curling into a ball to try and combat the agony that every breath caused her, while keeping an eye on Bruce who looked as though he was struggling against his own mind.

As she watched, he stumbled to the side and almost fell through the door in an effort to get away from her, a low growl sounding in the air just before the door swung shut. Natasha clutched at her knees as the panic attack slammed through her and she closed her eyes, trying to fight the hyperventilating. Her mind was not in the right place to deal with everything that had just happened, she was still having trouble with what had occurred when she was taken.

"I can't do this." She muttered to herself, her breath coming in ragged gasps and causing more pain in her chest. "I can't, I can't do this."


	8. Comforting Embrace

Natasha was and had always been a strong fighter. She had supreme control of her emotions and she could use them when necessary, abandoning them when unwanted. To have them so fluidly taking over was almost scary, to lose that tight grasp on her mind and give in to her inner self was not an option. She had been through too much recently to be able to accurately handle any more drama, she needed a break from her world of terror.

She moved down the corridor in absolute silence, it was well past midnight and there were very few people milling about, leaving her to wander alone and unnoticed. She walked with an embarrassing limp but it could not be helped and if she didn't favour her leg then she would only cause more damage that could result in more of a permanent situation. She was a fast healer but she was not a miracle worker and she had to concede to logic for some things, no matter the strength of her will.

She made it to her quarters and treated herself to a shower, needing to keep it at a fairly low temperature to avoid aggravating the injuries across her body. Her face was contorted in strain as she tried to wash herself, gritting her teeth and holding her breath so she didn't let out any noise that would indicate the pain she was putting herself through. Every time she moved or stretched she could feel her body complaining, disagreeing with the motions.

She was unable to stay in the shower for long, everything was in agony and she could only take so much. The mirror was entirely steamed up despite the low temperature of the shower and she paused before making the decision to wipe it clean. She was well aware that she was not looking well, she could feel it with every step and every movement, it was clear that she was a mess. But she needed to see what had been done, needed to visualize the extent of her injuries even though part of her mind still did not want to view herself.

A shaking hand swiped the moisture from the glass as a huge breath was drawn into her lungs, only causing more pain that she was desperate to deny. The first thing she noticed was the coloring of her skin, while a range of vibrant hues, the most noticeable point was how pale the untarnished skin was. Her eyes were mildly bloodshot and she expected them to be swollen around the edges, but they were just rimmed with a deep purple and yellow, showing the aging of those bruises. Her left cheek held an incredibly dark coloring, she assumed she had been struck there with a nice heavy object, or perhaps it had been a powerful kick. A gentle finger probed the area and she realized she was lucky her entire face hadn't been fractured.

Lucky. She was anything but and yet she was still alive. Somehow. Her back was giving her the most pain and she was almost afraid to have a look. She had been told there was branding marks there, from a heated fire poker most likely but no one had really described how they looked, only informing her that it would probably take awhile to heal and there was a chance that the scarring would be permanent.

A hiss of breath escaped her lips as she twisted her body and peeled away the bandages that had remained even under the heavy stream of water. Her back was certainly a mess, the whole area of the centre of her spine bore marks of horrific burns and it was no wonder the skin felt stretched. She could tell instantly that a lot of the nerves had been completely seared, so the pain she felt from that area came from the edges mainly. When the doctors had refused to describe the wounds she had been terrified that some sort of specific marking or wording had been branded into her skin, but it was just aimless burning, thankfully there was no 'signature'.

A knock on her door made her flinch and she was glad no one had been around to see that, she needed to keep what little of her dignity remained. Moving stiffly, she grabbed a towel from the side of the bathroom and slowly wrapped it around her body, cringing with the effort. Her plan was to wait until whoever was outside would disappear, then she would pack some things and get the hell off the base.

That plan was foiled when she heard the door to her quarters open and a hesitant voice call out.

"Natasha? Are you in here?" The bathroom door was shut but she could still easily pick up the movements of Bruce as he stepped through her room, no doubt having the brainwave of checking the bathroom. For a split second she considered hiding, but he would find her anyway and she would look ridiculous crouched in the shower cubicle like an escaped convict.

"Two seconds." She called out, horrified at the amount of strain in her voice as she took a last look at the mirror, absolutely detesting what she saw. It was not the bruises and the injuries that made her hate her own reflection, it was the evidence of her most recent failure. The mirror showed how weak she was, how she had allowed herself to be subjected to such personal torture by a man that she should have been able to predict.

That was why the case had been good for her, because she knew him and she could have followed his pattern. But she had slipped up inexcusably and she had paid the price in a violent way. She had no one to blame but herself, no one was guilty but her. However, that didn't mean she wasn't going to track him down and break every bone in his body while he screamed for mercy. Mercy that she would not be giving him despite his pleas.

She sighed and tore her eyes away from the despicable sight in front of her, limping toward the bathroom door and slowly opening it, wincing at the strain in her arm. She saw Bruce standing in the middle of her room, wringing his hands awkwardly as his eyes lifted from his feet to meet hers.

"Trying to do a runner from the lab?" It was a weak joke and she said nothing, surely he knew he was not going to get a laugh from her.

* * *

Even while bruised and bloodied, she was a stunning woman. It was hard for Bruce to concentrate on his logical thoughts when she stood before him in a tightly fitted towel, water dripping from her hair and causing the material to hug her torso even tighter. He wondered if it made him sick, to be appreciating her beauty even while she appeared so damaged. Her eyes still held that unbreakable strength that he always admired her for, even after all she had been through she was still tough as nails.

"You look good." He said quietly. No idea why that even slipped out and there was no change in her expression as she took a moment to digest the comment.

"No I don't." She said simply. It was not spoken in the normal attention seeking way, when the drop dead gorgeous woman denied the compliments but was really basking in the glory of them. Natasha did not see her appearance as 'good' and it was understandable.

"I mean you look better than before." A cowards way out of a potentially awkward situation, trying to convince her that he was meaning she was healing well. She wasn't fooled. "I'm sorry about before." He almost whispered, his eyes dropping again out of habit when things became emotionally strained with him.

"You mean when we kissed and then you tried to crush me?"

Bruce's head snapped back up and he gazed at her with a quizzical expression. She did not say 'when _you_ kissed me,' she said, 'when _we_ kissed.' She had kissed him back, that important fact had almost been forgotten in the grand scheme of things running through Bruce's whacked out mind. He could barely remember what her lips had even felt like, he had been dreaming of them for so long and when he was finally allowed the taste, his mind had fogged and the other side of him and opted for release.

"I'm sorry." He repeated, knowing it didn't mean anything. He could have killed her so easily, it would only have taken another few seconds for the change to be completed and she would have died in his arms, like she had so many times in his dreams.

"Sorry for the kiss?" She asked and Bruce actually adorned a horrified expression.

"What? No! God no! I mean I-" That was a nice little hole he had begun to dig himself. "I mean look, Natasha I- " There was no way to accurately describe his feelings and he was sure she didn't want to hear about them so he choice the usual method of bottling them up and casting them aside momentarily. "You should get back to the medical lab. You are still injured."

She studied him for a moment, using that gaze that made him feel as though she was reading everything in his mind. It was eerie and yet a part of him wished she could simply find out how he felt so he wouldn't have to hide it all the damn time. Or risk the emotions turning into an outlet for the Other Guy.

"Don't pretend you came here as my doctor." He should have known she would see past his attempt to be professional, she was a master of reading people after all. People needed to learn never to underestimate Natasha Romanoff. "You owe me an explanation." That was the thing, there was no way to explain what had happened when he kissed her, no way to justify his actions.

She took a step forward and the towel shifted ever so slightly, seeming to grip yet even tighter around her chest and sending Bruce's mind spinning with a vast range of images. He swallowed and focused on her expression, it was almost cross, clearly he was not leaving without giving her what she was asking for.

"I want you."

It was perhaps one of the most honest things Bruce had ever uttered. Such simple words that held a depth of meaning. She didn't react, not verbally, but she moved her hands to her hips and waited for him to continue. Bruce took a deep breath and forced himself to look her dead in the eyes.

"I want you. More than I could possibly put into words. But the problem is that _he_ wants you too. I don't know whose will is stronger, mine or _his_." He knew he should stay away from her, the last time he had gotten close he had hurt her and he couldn't bear to let it happen again. But suddenly his feet were moving him closer and to his surprise she didn't try and step away. She wasn't that much shorter than him, but the look in her eyes and the way she stood always made her seem ten foot tall and bullet proof. Yet seeing her so broken and bruised made Bruce want to reach out and protect her from the world. Unfortunately he knew he needed to protect her from himself.

His hands found their way to her shoulders and he almost closed his eyes to enjoy the sheer delight of feeling her skin against his. He was so very aware of her breathing, even noting how struggled it was, she was still having trouble with her lungs taking in air, though she had managed to keep that little fact away from the doctors. Still she didn't speak, though Bruce longed to hear her voice, he was afraid of what she would have to say. He was a monster, she was a woman who never missed a thing and she would be aware of that fact.

He didn't move as her hand reached out and was placed flat against his chest over his heart, which started to race the moment she touched him. Everything in his mind urged him to grab her and kiss her, no matter the damage he would cause. But he couldn't, couldn't bring himself to hurt her in any way.

"Natash-"

He was cut off by her soft lips pressing against his, his eyes widened for just a moment before shutting tightly as he enjoyed the feel of her, moaning slightly and taking care to relish the taste he had forgotten about the last time. His hands moved to the back of her head as his tongue slid into her mouth but she grabbed his wrists and pulled them down by his side. He almost smiled, she was keeping him in check, keeping the both of them calm. Just as the kiss intensified and the heat between the increased, she pulled back and earned a groan of disappointment from him.

He opened his eyes and gazed into hers, stumped to find that vicious fighting spirit had disappeared and had been replaced by something entirely soft and vulnerable. She opened those perfect lips and her voice came out gentle, not anything like an assassin's

"I know you don't want to hurt me Bruce." Before he could stop himself he had moved forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a firm but gentle embrace. There was nothing instinctual about it, nothing desire filled and the Other Guy continued to lay dormant as Bruce clung to Natasha's small and battered frame. After a moment of hesitation he felt her arms wrap around his waist and she rested her head in the crook of his neck. He sighed inwardly, she seemed to fit so perfectly in his arms.

"I'm not going back to the medical ward." She murmured, her lips moving against his skin and sending all sorts of tingles through his body. He smirked a little, he hadn't really expected to be able to talk her into returning, he knew that when her mind was made up then it was resolute.

"I can't leave you alone Natasha." He said logically, with as much absolution.

"Then don't." She whispered, hugging him just a little tighter, making her feel just a little more fragile. "Don't leave, stay with me tonight. Or for what is left of tonight, I think it's about two in the morning right?"

"Correct." Bruce chuckled, reluctantly pulling back from the comforting embrace. "And you need to sleep." He gave her a stern look and was amused by the way she had the nerve to frown at him, no matter how logical he was being. "Bed." He added, feeling as though he was on a roll. She gave him a light scowl but complied and moved away, crawling into the bed at the side of the room. Bruce's arms felt empty without her and he almost wished he had been selfish enough to hold onto her for a little longer.

He noted the way she grimaced when trying to lay on her back, quickly rolling onto her side and then ending up on her front. Bruce stepped forward and moved around to the side of her bed, meeting her eyes as she turned her head to face him. "Your back, the burns are causing you pain?"

"A little." She admitted with a small nod. Bruce was aware that if she could even admit she was in pain, then it must have been on a large scale. The towel was still in place but he knew the bandages should still have been visible and he sighed, realizing she must have removed them.

"You are the worst patient in history." He sighed, "Do you have a med kit in here?" She nodded and told him it was in the bathroom cabinet, which he found easily, also noticing the bandages from her back strewn across the tiled floor. "Damn it Tash." He muttered to himself before coming back out. "Alright hold still, I'm going to bandage your back up. Again."

She mumbled something in protest but Bruce was already moving onto the bed and kneeling beside her. His steady fingers pulled down the towel, carefully avoiding the wounded area which looked much better than when she had first come in. "You're healing well." He told her as he gently lay the fresh bandages across her skin, regretfully not able to do much about the pain she would be in.

"So they keep telling me." Her voice was muffled and he couldn't help but smile at the sarcasm in her tone.

"You are going to be fine Natasha." Bruce muttered, "I'm going to look after you."

"Hmmm?" She turned her head a little to try and hear him but he just smiled at her.

"Nothing, don't worry." He assured her and his heart skipped a beat as she smiled back. Even with her injuries, she was breathtakingly beautiful.

"Thank you." She murmured quietly, sincerity in her tone. She may have been known for her lies and deceit, for putting on a composure that hid herself away from the world, but Bruce knew he was looking at the real Natasha.


	9. Truly a Monster

**Okay, so there is some smut in here and it gets a little dark, but in the slight chance of lack of clarification, it is entirely consensual. Also a warning for kind of implied rape and mention of rape.**

* * *

There was no way to guess the time when Bruce awoke, he hadn't even been aware of falling asleep but he knew his body had been tired enough that it would have come easily to him. At first he didn't move, for some reason he felt more comfortable that he could remember for a very long time, stretched out on his stomach with his face buried into the pillow and his arm laying across something warm and soft. He lifted his head with a confused expression as he focused on what was touching his arm and suddenly remembered that he had laid down to rest beside Natasha, after changing her bandages then watching protectively as she fought against the sleep that came for her.

It was almost completely dark in the room but Bruce had always had excellent night vision and his eyes quickly adjusted, following his arm down to its position across Natasha's bare chest. The towel was no longer a factor in covering her and at some point she had rolled over, evidently the fresh bandages on her back were enough to mask a little of the pain, if she found it acceptable to be lying in such a position.

Bruce was very aware that the right thing to do would be to remove his arm in a subtle way and then lift the blankets to cover the breasts he would then be exposing. But he couldn't bring himself to do it and before he even knew it, he had moved closer, his arm curling around her even more. His heart started to race as she let out a tiny groan, rolling onto her side and right up against him, snuggling in a way that he knew would never happen if she was conscious and aware of her surroundings.

His heart beat grew louder as he lifted his hand to brush away one of her curls, tucking it behind her ear. It had to be considered predatory, to be watching her with such fascination as she slept, almost technically in his arms. If Bruce thought he could make the move without waking her, he would have slipped both arms around her and held her tightly to her chest, maybe kissed her neck and then her breasts, slipping his hand between…

He rolled away suddenly, his heart racing faster than he knew was safe, his breathing coming in ragged gasps. His eyes closed and his jaw snapped shut as he desperately tried to calm his body down. After a minute of steady breathing and clenched fists, he turned back to Natasha and almost flinched when he saw her eyes were open and staring at him. Ashamedly, his eyes flicked down to her breasts and saw they were covered with her arm, which could have been placed there for that purpose or simply because it was a comfortable position.

"What is going on Bruce?" She asked softly and in the lack of light she seemed to be hardly injured at all, even though he knew what she was capable of and that she had killed many people, she appeared to be so innocent. She didn't need to be protected and yet Bruce so desperately wanted to protect her.

"I'm losing my control." He replied honestly. He had no reason to lie to her, it would have been cruel to be anything other than truthful and he believed she would be able to see through it anyway. "It's never really been easy, but at least control was manageable. Not anymore."

"Because of me."

She was an intelligent woman, there wasn't much she missed. He nodded.

"I don't know how to fix it." He admitted, rolling onto his back and looking up at the darkened ceiling.

"You make it seem as though you are broken." He felt the mattress shift a little and glanced over to see her move into a sitting position, bringing the sheet with her so that her chest was covered. Bruce was disappointed, even despite the seriousness of the situation and the danger he was putting her in by just being in the same room as her.

"You can't sit there and argue that I'm _not_ broken." He told her, sitting up as well, moving so that his back was leaning against the head board. He stretched his legs out, relieved he had stayed on top of the blankets or it would have been seriously creepy if she had awoken to find him completely in the bed with her. He was willing to bet that she was used to men trying to use any excuse to take advantage, but Bruce was nothing like most men.

"I don't think you need to be fixed." She said quietly, her face showing she was serious. He didn't understand why she wasn't terrified of him, why she wasn't running and screaming, trying to get as far away as possible from the monster that wanted her to be his.

"Nobody else thinks along the same lines as you." He muttered with more scorn than he meant to use. Thankfully she didn't take it as though he was meaning it towards her.

"And why do I have to be like everyone else?" He was staring at his hands but looked up as she spoke those words. He realized that as different from normal men as he was, she was vastly different from any other woman that Bruce had ever known. She was beautiful and deadly, able to kill with just about every object she could lay her hands on and she could survive torture that would have broken even the toughest of men. On a whim, he suddenly leaned forward with the intention of kissing her but she moved even faster than he did and he felt her arms wrap around his neck before his lips even reached hers.

The moment he was able to taste her lips again, one of her arms came away from his neck and her nimble fingers moved down the front of his shirt, rapidly undoing his buttons. There was a split second when he could have stopped her, when he had enough logical control over himself that he could have pulled her away and then left the room. It didn't last long, but that moment was definitely there and it was certainly considered. But the second it left, he snapped and knew that there was no way in hell that he was going to stop and in a way that terrified him. If she made the sudden decision to try and stop what was about to happen, the animal inside him was not going to allow it.

He placed one hand to the back of her head, keeping her lips crushed against his with enough force that would have been painful and yet he was beyond the point of caring. He wanted her and he was damn well going to have her. There was a roaring in his mind that was encouraging the raging lust that rushed through him and he leaned forward slightly so he could quickly pull his shirt away. He grabbed her hips and tugged, giving the indication that he wanted her to move and though she smoothly stretched a leg over him, she was not fast enough and he yanked her hips down to grind her against his straining erection.

She moaned as loudly as he did with the friction and he bucked his hips slightly as he moved her against him again, sending a wave of desire rolling over him. She kissed him impossibly harder as her hand reached down to unbutton the front of his jeans, again he deemed her to be too slow and assisted her, pulling them off as fast as he possible could. The roaring in his mind was almost deafening, even though she was right there, right on top of him, he could barely feel her, could barely see her through the fog. His hands moved back to her hips and he lifted her up and onto his cock, holding her at the tip for a moment before pulling her onto it.

The movement should have been gentle, in his dreams it had always been a soft moment of beautiful connection, but in his dreams he was not struggling for control and the animal could not allow him to be slow. The animal had been dying of its thirst for Natasha, finally able to drink, it was not going to sip. As he roughly yanked her onto his cock, he thrust his hips up and groaned with sheer delight, tipping his head back and letting out a growl.

On some level he could hear her moans as she moved her hips against him but he was so focused on his own pleasure that hers didn't matter to him. For so long, this had been in his mind and now that it was finally happening, he wasn't even sure how much of it was actually him and how much was the animal inside. His hands were not gentle as he moved her, not so much guiding her but yanking her up and down, each time he lifted his hips to drive himself deeper. His mouth sucked and bit down to her neck and then continued to her breast, biting harder than he should have and not caring in the slightest.

She was entirely his and there was going to be nothing that could keep her from him, no obstacle, no voice of reason. Not even her own will could stop anything he wanted to do to her. As the strength of his thrusts increased, so did the fog and he could no longer even focus on the sight of her, it was just the feel that he concentrated on. The harder he became, the darker his mind was and he understood that the only reason the animal hadn't come out and torn her apart, was because it meant there could never be a repeat of the blinding pleasure her body gave him. It wasn't out of concern for her and the overwhelming pain it would bring her, or of moral fibre, it was entirely selfish and only for him.

He knew he was growling but it was something that he did not care about and couldn't have changed, sound was not important, vision was not important, even _she_ was not important, just the feeling of her muscles around his cock. He could feel it as she came, the way they contracted, milking his cock even as her hips lost their rhythm and bucked wildly against him, bringing him over the edge too. He snarled as he came and thundered his hips into her, riding the waves with her until she had collapsed onto his chest and the only sounds were their desperate breathing.

As his mind started to clear and the fog disappeared, the animal relinquishing control back to Bruce, he started to realize what had just happened and how his control had been taken entirely. He stared at Natasha wide eyed as he realized how tightly he had been holding her and how painful her breathing obviously was, her chest moving unsteadily. He had no words to offer her and instead rubbed her back gently, touching her as softly as he possibly could to try and contrast from the extreme roughness of the way he had just treated her.

At the back of his mind he could feel the animal falling into slumber, drained from what it had just done and he could hear Natasha's breathing changing also, she too was falling asleep. As carefully as he possibly could, he moved her up and slid out of her, gently laying her back onto the bed. She shifted slightly but did not wake and Bruce squinted through the darkness at the deep purple bruising on the side of her thighs. They were clearly finger marks and he stared in confusion, his eyes moving up to the ones he had only just made on her hips. The ones on her thighs had not come from him. He shook his head, too shocked by what he had just done to focus on much else, slowly moving off the bed and quickly pulling his clothes on.

He hurried to the door and silently stepped outside, finding an agent on patrol that that was walking down the hall. He whistled to bring the man back and gave him strict instructions to guard Natasha's door, not letting anyone in or out. After ensuring the man would comply, Bruce chanced finding Tony awake in one of the labs, not sure if it was luck that caused his search to be successful.

"What on Earth are you doing up at this hour?" Tony asked, only briefly looking up from the computer as Bruce entered and quickly walked over to him. "Well, since you're here, you may as well check out the simulations I wrote up, they're perfect of course, but it never hurts to have a second pair of-" Tony stopped talking suddenly and looked up at Bruce, taking in his appearance and sniffing the air. He stepped away from the computer and picked up the cup of coffee that sat on the workbench. "There are three things that I can always pick up on with absolute certainty. The smell of a decent coffee, the smell of sex and the look of someone who has just had either. The smell of caffeine is coming from this cup, the smell of sex is coming from you and I'm willing to bet that you haven't had any coffee." He narrowed his eyes accusingly in a way that Bruce didn't understand and was surprised by his next sentence. "For the love of God, please tell me you did _not _just sleep with Natasha."

Tony had been telling Bruce to get laid almost every day since the two had met and he had been dropping far too many hints that it should be with a certain fiery assassin. He couldn't understand why that would suddenly be the opposite of what Tony wanted to hear. Unsure of what to say, Bruce said nothing.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Tony hissed.

"She wanted it." Bruce said defensively, hating the way Tony made it seem as though he had raped her and then quickly remembering that he almost nearly had and figured it was best to explain that. "The thing is, I think the Other Guy would have taken her without her consent anyway. I had no control at all, he took over."

Tony was staring at him as though he had just announced his plans to annihilate the human race, Bruce was beyond confused, sure what he had just told Tony was not exactly good, but he didn't know why there was such a hostile reaction coming from the billionaire.

"So Natasha gets kidnapped and tortured," He put down the coffee and folded his arms, staring hard at Bruce. "Tortured in horrific ways that will leave her scarred. This guy brands her and _rapes_ her, somehow he lets her live and she comes back, only to have you rock in there and take complete advantage. Even I know when a line shouldn't be crossed-"

He stopped when Bruce suddenly grabbed his shoulders, gripping him tightly. Bruce's heart was racing and his mouth had suddenly gone completely dry, his eyes wider than he could have thought possible. "He what! Tony, what are you saying? He- no- she would have said- no one told me- I-" He couldn't believe what he was hearing, it couldn't possibly be true. Surely if she had been raped then one of the nurses would have informed him, he would have known, _somehow_.

He took a sudden step back as things clicked into place, the way some of her files had information missing, some of her injuries which should have been documented had not been recorded anywhere. Then he remembered the bruises he had noticed on her thighs, the ones that hadn't come from him. He doubled over, clutching his chest as his vision swam, his mind trying to contemplate what he had just done to her after something so similar had only been done recently. He knew if the Other Guy wasn't so drained, he would be out and tearing up the lab, the panic flying through Bruce was unmatched and he had never felt such self loathing.

There was no way he could ever believe himself not to be a monster, all of Natasha's kind words were forgotten, all he could think about was how strong his need for her had been, his mind revolving around what would have happened if she tried to deny him.

* * *

**This chapter is kind of dedicated to Brina who gave me a fantastic review that made me grin and has private messaging disabled so I wasn't able to give my thanks!**


	10. Denial of Feelings

Natasha's sleep was fitful and as restless as always, her mind filled with relentless images of torturous flashbacks. Her body was mostly still as she slept, on occasion she would jerk or spasm, her face contorted with strain, but it wouldn't last long and she would quickly fall back into falsely relaxed appearance. When she woke, she could feel the pain of her body immediately, but she made no noise to indicate it as she rolled onto her side, keeping her eyes shut tightly.

It was the only sign that she was under distress, the way her face was set hard as she slowly inhaled and exhaled, careful to keep her breathing shallow to avoid sending pain flaring through her chest.

"Natasha."

She slowly opened her eyes as she heard her name, her vision blurring for a moment but clearing quickly to reveal Bruce sitting in a chair beside the bed. The purple shading under his eyes informed her he had not slept and there was a ghost of horror in his face, his lips were set in a hard line. Bruce wasn't exactly a cheery person by nature, Natasha was aware that he didn't skip around with a smile on his face, but it was still strange to see him so serious.

"Why didn't you tell me?" His voice was quiet, almost a whisper and it was strained, as though it would break.

"Tell you what?" She asked, confusion showing in her face. She slowly moved her body into a sitting position, trying to ignore the pain that rocketed across her chest and the unpleasant aching of her hips. She sucked in a deep breath by reflex and hissed at the burning sensation it brought out in her lungs.

"Natasha. Stop it." She lifted her eyes to meet his, once again stunned by the level of severity in them.

"Stop what?" She impatiently asked, certain that they were sure as hell not on the same page. "Can you just tell me what you're talking about?"

"I spoke with Tony." He dropped his gaze as he blurted out the words, it was almost like they were a secret in themselves, but she understood the meaning behind them and her entire body stiffened, her anger rising and directing towards the billionaire.

"He had no right to tell you-"

"Are you serious?" He cut her off, suddenly rising to his feet and glaring at her. "You are going to sit there and tell me he shouldn't have said anything? How could you not have told me!"

Natasha glanced away, placing a hand over her chest to try and alleviate the pressure caused by her increase of breathing as a taboo subject was breached. She carefully slid to the edge of the bed and pulled the sheet around her body, using a hand on the wall to pull herself to her feet. "It's not important." She muttered, fighting the dizzy spell that washed through her mind and caused the room to spin.

"Not important?" Bruce hurriedly walked around the side of the bed and stood in front of her, purposely blocking her so that she could not go anywhere. "Not important! Do you have any idea how close I came to _killing_ you last night?" His eyes were wide as he tried to stress the seriousness of the situation, one hand came up to cup her cheek and he took a step forward. "Natasha, how could you let me do that to you after what happened. You were injured badly enough, but it must have been torment for you-"

"Stop!" She suddenly yelled, ignoring the pain it caused in her chest. "Just stop! Do I look like a weakened civilian? Do I seem as though I cannot handle myself! How dare you stand there and talk to me like that!" She pulled his hand away from her but he just grabbed her shoulders and gripped her tightly. As she fought against him again, he suddenly wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest, keeping her in the hold. She tried to battle him, but she was injured and he was far stronger than her.

After awhile she could only accept her loss and let herself go limp in his arms, dropping her head to his neck. Trying to resist the feeling of failure that was washing over her. Bruce's hold changed from constrictive to comforting and she could feel his breath on the side of her cheek. The tension released from his body as well and she let him pull her onto his lap as he lowered himself onto the bed.

"Why do you feel as though you have to do everything alone?" He whispered in her ear.

"Because I _am_ alone." She replied, her voice sounding robotic, as if it was an automated response. She had always been that way, no matter how many people were around her, she was still alone and there was nothing that could change that fact. He pulled her away from his chest so that he could look at her, giving her a stern expression.

"You are not-"

"Yes I am." She cut him off before he could try and reassure her, his words would be falling on deaf ears anyway. "Why are you even still here?" She asked, suddenly defensive, uncomfortable with the intimacy that seemed to be brewing between them and the exchange of emotion. "You got what you wanted, why did you come back?"

"Wait, what do you mean?" His eyes held confusion which changed to sadness rapidly. "Natasha, how could you think that last night was all that I wanted from you?"

"You said so." She told him, shifting a little so she could face him fully. He didn't relax his grip on her but he did allow her to reposition. "You said you _wanted_ me. And that _he _wanted me. So what, one fuck isn't enough to satisfy the hunger?" He looked shocked at her depersonalization of the whole situation.

"Natasha I-"

"What? Don't tell me you feel guilty. I could see how much you enjoyed last night." She stared at him hotly, knowing she was being unfair but not caring. "But it wasn't enough? That's why you came back, for round two?"

She slid her legs on either side of him, grinding her pelvis against his. "Natasha- what are you doing?" He tried to grab her shoulders and force her to stop, but she pressed her lips to his and was aware of the way he fully kissed her back. She didn't want to think, or to feel emotions that were rising within her, she couldn't handle them and so she decided to block them out. She pulled at buttons of his shirt, tearing them away in her haste to get his clothes off. He stopped her by grabbing her wrists and yanking them to the side, pulling away from the kiss.

He had his eyes shut tightly, his expression filled with strain as his breathing became shallow and rapid. "Don't do this." He panted. "Don't, don't make me, I can't, I'll hurt you-" He gasped as she ripped her hand from his grip and slid it into his jeans, gripping his erection tightly. His eyes snapped open and she saw the haze in them, the way he was trying to fight against his other side. She knew how cruel she was being, but she couldn't afford to care, couldn't let her feelings bubble to the surface.

Suddenly the haze in his eyes cleared, but she somehow knew with absolute certainty, that she was no longer looking at Bruce. Pure lust washed through her as she became aware of the animalistic look on his face and she completely pushed away her humanization, becoming the cold, unfeeling assassin that everybody saw her to be anyway.

"Knees." Bruce's voice was gruff and harsh, his order came as he pushed her roughly to the side before she could even comply on her own. He grabbed her hips as she fell forward on the bed, yanking them up before she heard the sound of jeans ripping, signalling he was pulling off his pants. Anticipation caused her heart to race as she propped herself up on her hands and felt him push her knees further apart before his hands returned to her hips.

She cried out in a dangerous mix of pleasure and pain as he slammed himself into her, pushing her so far forward that she nearly lost her balance. He began to move instantly, giving her no time to try and get used to his size, her only option was to breathe through the pain and try to focus on the pleasure. He was leaning on her as he thrusted and he reached forward to grab her hand, pulling it away from the bed and forcing her to hold herself up with just one arm. He moved her hand between her legs and guided her own fingers to rub herself harshly, unable to chose her own speed or pressure.

The sheer control he exerted over her was igniting the fire in her core and she pushed her hips backwards in time with his thrusts, overwhelmed by the growls and snarls coming from him. She could feel herself growing weaker under his weight and from the desire rolling through her, nearly collapsing as his pace increased. He let out a snarl of frustration and pointedly shoved her hand away, beginning to rub her himself.

Her moans joined his own noises as their bodies moved together, slippery with sweat and Natasha's wetness. She nearly fell down as he leaned on her fully and she felt a moment of pain as pressure was placed on the wounds that traced her back, but it was overshadowed by a violent thrust that nearly had her seeing stars.

She groaned in delight as she felt her orgasm loom, blind to the world and everything but the physical feelings that washed over her.

She cried out as the golden wave took her, hearing something of a roar behind her, her entire body nearly jolted forward as the thrusts drew forth a powerful orgasm and she collapsed forward on the bed, unable to hold herself up anymore. She was shaking as she stilled and felt him pull out of her, not bothering to speak or even turn toward him. But a moment later, she felt gentle hands on her shoulder, understanding the contrast between their softness and the previous violent thrusting.

Bruce rolled her over carefully and then slowly lay beside her, wrapping an arm around her chest in a way that was clearly meant for reassurance. As she panted for breath she met his eyes and noted the sheer sadness and guilt. He didn't say anything, just held her tightly and pressed his lips to her neck in loving sort of way, before he pulled the blankets over them both. Natasha rolled to face him fully, her body sore and aching as it usually was. She selfishly cuddled into him, using his above average body heat to warm her as she cooled down.

She knew she was playing with fire, that what she had just done would take the manipulation award of any techniques she had ever used. But she didn't care. Anything was better than letting her true feelings take hold.

* * *

**Sorry, bit of a short one. **


End file.
